Shards of Memory Lost
by Cathy Crimson
Summary: Summary (temporary): Julian knows things- things that haven't happened yet. Things like when the Dark Lord Grindervald will/should be defeated by his former lover and when he's going to get a letter inviting him to a school of magic. You see, Julian wasn't always Julian. In another life he was Harry Potter- and he's starting to remember. (Probably HP/TMR) Time Travel/Born anew


_**Shards of Memory Lost**_

_**Summary (roughly, as I imagine it right now):**_

Julian knows things- things that haven't happened yet. Things like when the Dark Lord Grindervald will/should be defeated by his former lover and when he's going to get a letter inviting him to a school of magic. You see, Julian wasn't always Julian. In another life he was Harry Potter,

and he's starting to remember.

Somehow, this life seems to be happening before his former one- and thus, Julian gets the chance to change history.

In his past life he defeated one Dark Lord and was killed by another- you'd think that would be enough for quite a few lifetimes to come. But then, why is it that as the years go by he's meeting stranger and stranger people, some of which he has a feeling he used to know, a long time ago in the future- will he somehow, miraculously, succeed in taming not one Dark Lord, but three? Or will he really be destroyed- this time for good?

And what role does Tom Riddle play in it all? Are they simply allies in a war agains a common enemy, or is something entirelt different going on?

**Warning:** Will probably be slash. Right now I'm leaning towards Harry/Tom Riddle, but that doesn't mean that there arent going to be other pairings along the way; there might be. Harry x Tom will be the main pairing (if i don't suck at writing slash, in wich case i might give up), but I was thinking of maby allowing Harry to have a "casual" relationship on the side- and Tom would probably know and be right jellous and furious but Harry won't be inlove with the other person... or something like that. I'm not sure yet, though. There will probably be vampirism- or something similar- here somewhere.

I'm rambling a little so I think I'll stop soon, but before I finish I'd like you to know that this is my first fanfic. Ever. So I would really like some feedback on how you think it's going- constructive critizism is welcome. If someone could give me some guidelines or something for how to write dialogue I'd be really grateful and, considering my less than cheritable skills in that particular area I guess you will be too, if you're planning on reading this story. Thanks!

Last thing before I'll let you go; English is not my mother language so forgive any misspellings. I'm not really sure how this site works yet but if you point anything obvious out I'll try to correct it.

And now... on with the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter- if I did Harry would have been gay and Sirius, Snape and Fred (or was it George?) would never have died. Oh, and Ginny Weasley would have been banished (or dead, but banished sounds better).

_**Prologue: Before the Becomming**_

All was silence in the great hall of the Old Castle. The only sound that could be heard above the suffocating stillness was the breath of many men and the fast beating of their hearts, as they stood waiting for the sinal to move forward. Torchlight flickered, creating shadows and monsters of nightmares on the ancient stone walls; the only movement in the room. Above their heads the night sky blossomed and stars could be discerned. Scattered over black silk they shone down on the soldiers, bathing them in cold light and making them look more like statues than living, breathing beings.

One man, the one who stood alone, clearly cornered, differed from the others. His body, although worm with age, was still taunt and strong and although silver streaks coloured his formerly pitch black hair, he was beautiful still. But the most shocking thing about him was not his strength nor his wisdom, but the fact that as he stood protecting a broken woman laying unconcious on the floor from her tormentor- his friend- he did not waver. Somehow, when they looked into his deep emerald eyes and saw the strange mix of sadness and determination reflected there, even his enemies could naught but admire his strong will.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, the man sighed and stepped forward, carefully aranging himself so that he covered the woman laying bloodied and beaten behind him from all angles.

He braced himself for disapointment, but still couldn't help the need he felt to get through to the young man, and would at least try before all was lost- he was not above pleding his cause.

He took a deep breath and the symbolical ice, representing the walls between them that their actions had built, broke with a crack.

He looked to the man standing on the opposite side of the room, in it's center, mirroring his own guarded stance. By the way he held himself, half a step before his men, it was clear that he was the leader. Their eyes met, like they all ways did eventually when they were near each other.

"Please Desden, think this through." He begged, quite shamelessly trying ,yet again, to appeal to the Dark Lords softer side- pressuming he had one. Harry had, until recently believed that he did.

A laugh, startlingly high and just a bit mad was the only response he got.

He wanted to flinch, but held himself back. "You don't have to do this." He tried.

The deceptively young-looking man with long, wavy auburn- coloured hair and tanned skin seemed to hesitate for a single, earth-shattering moment but ultimately only shook his head. Harry had had expected it, counted on it in fact, but the action hurt him none the less- they had forged a frendship, however brittle and circumstantial, during these past few years of the New War, and he'd hoped, prayed, that this day wouldn't come yet for a while.

But then, praying had never done him any good before, so he didn't know why he expected something to be different this time around.

Desden, whom he'd in years past come to view not only as an ally but as a comrade, was now looking at him with a face devoid of the emotions he'd somehow, gradually, grown accostumed to seeing there- amusement, indulgence, warmth, the odd feeling of familiarity that only grows between two people who spend large amounts of time in each other's precense.

All gone in a heart-beat.

How strange it felt to miss someone standing not 20 meters away. Alive, in front of his very own eyes, but also dead because the man he used to be wouldn't have allowed the misstake to happen and was now clearly a different person. He felt denial sneaking in but shook it off. What would be the point? He knew the truth- the proof standing, undeniably, in front of him with a smile on his lips that was as sweet as it was false.

Harry made himself listen to the words of betrayal uttered seemingly without effort and couldn't help but think that they were way too weak for the silent burden they carried, and dumped, upon his battle hardened shoulders.

"I assure you, my friend, that I've done so quite explicidly already and though it pains me, I've since come to the conclusion that this is the path we must take if we wish to succeed." Harry marveled at the fact that his friend, as confident as usual, somehow still managed to sound apologetic.

If he didn't know any better Harry might have overlooked the deceitful sweetness hidden within the rich baritone. If he was younger he might have let down his guard, thus emabling the dussin or so guards standing in a loose half-circle around him, conviniently cutting of the only point of exit that was the great double doors behind his former companion, to shoot, cut or otherwise maim his unprotected self.

He had, however, come a long way since his youth and liked to think that he'd learned a little something about deception along the way. Therefore he felt sure in the knoledge that he understood the creature before him- possibly as no one had before himself, and probably as no one would after this day, when he was gone.

He was 90 years past his last war and a good few years into his second, and too old _not_ to know the difference between true and false. Therefore, he didn't move a muscle.

The Lord still waited, expectantly- for what Harry didn't know. Understanding perhaps? Acceptance?

When time passed and nothing happened the man-demon simply shrugged and moved on, although Harry thought himself see a flicker of regret pass through stormy eyes. But before he had time to make sure it was gone, as if it never existed, and Harry wasn't sure that had.

"It doesn't have to end this way, you know. Hand her over. Come back, and I promide I'll forgett this ever happened. " The young man was grasping for straws and they both knew it.

Still, Harry really couldn't help the small smile from appearing on his lips because for once it wasn't him pleading a hopeless cause. Emerald met silver and he shook his head sadly.

"I've made my choice."

Grief flitted over the demon's face even as silver turned to steel. "Yes, you have." There was a note of finalty in the smooth voice that told the lonely figure all he needed to know. The end was near.

"I'm sorry." He said. A distraction, but a true one.

This statement garnered no surprise. "I know." Was the simple answer.

Raising a hand adorned with countless rings- some made of gold, some of silver, and some with precious jewels- he motioned his guards forward with a deceptively nonchalant gesture.

The men were afraid, and it showed in their sweat- covered faces and trambling hands- in which they held small magical objects of varying proportions- but moved forward regardless.

Harry might have admired them their loyalty, if he didn't know that it was fear of the consequences that not moving might have that was spurring them on, not love for their leader.

He did not waste any time in conjuring a sheild, although he made no move to fight back. Instead,

he raised a gnarly calused hand to his throat and ripped of the chain that rested there. From it dangled a simple golden ring- one that formerly sat on another's finger. Salvation.

Ignoring the colourful curses sailing his way he simply raised another sheild when it appeared that the current one was gonna fall and turned his back on the many soldiers and their leader, despite their outraged cries of `coward´and `be a man and fight!´.

He knelt down beside the woman on the floor and carefully lifted her head, placing it in his lap. He gently carded his fingers through her wavy blond hair, undoing the knots and lifting away cakes that had formed of her dried blood. He placed a kiss upon her brow.

When she began to stirr he took the ring and threaded it onto her left thump- the only finger of the hand that wasn't broken.

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder. They were starting to become agitated and he had to be careful. Desperation, he knew all to well, was an exellent motivator.

He started chanting, slowly but steadily breaking through centuries worth of old wards, at the same time as he lifted a hand and concentrated on holding the sheild intact. He ignored the black spotts starting to appear in his vision as good as he could and noticed the bewilderment in their faces when they saw he wasn't fighting back. Resolving to work faster he spat the words out as quick as he dared, all the while taking care of surveying his surroundings.

Naturally, his eyes landed on The King, and as he watched a light of understanding came into his disbelieving eyes.

It was too late and they both knew it but that fact, it seemed, was not going to stop the bastard from trying. He urged his soldiers on desperately and even stepped forward himself, pointing one of the objects that he took fro his belt at the sheild and adding his own power into the mix.

Harry could feel the wall crumbling and shouted the last desperate phrase a second before it fell entirely, exposing them.

"Noteil wouldas heiden s'wvagera!"

A bright blue light flared up suddenly, comming from the ring but encompassing the whole of the womans battered body. Her eyes flew open and as she looked into his face and at her own glowing body, bewildered shock made way for understanding. For a second, their eyes met and held- blue and green mixing, melting. She knew what he had done.

Sadly, it appeared she wasn't the only one.

He suddenly heard a roar of rage comming from behind and turned to see one of the things pointed the woman's way, held in a hand he knew all too well. He only had time to throw himself in the way of the green ray of light before it hit and... The world seemed to slow down.

Somehow, he re-traced the ray's path with his eyes and was met with hands, rings, golden skin, shoulders teld rigid, a chin and finally a handsome face in wich rested a pair of wide grey eyes. As suddenly as this new awareness came though, it seemed to melt away, because in that face there was shock, horror and panic and in those eyes there was denial and regrett. To Harry it seemed, as if all the answers to all the questions in the world existed in that haunted gaze.

Then, abruptly, he was drawn back towards the light that was the colour of his own glowing orbs and had to admit that the fact pleased him, despite the circumstances- it seemed like a good way to go. Behind him the blue light flared once before dissapearing, taking the woman with it; a small popping sound the only sign of her departure. Soon now.

Half a second 'till it hit and Harry steeled himself for the inevitable.

"No!"

The scream seemed to tear space itself appart and for a moment he imagined that he could feel the vibratons in the very floor he knelt on but that was just silly, wasn't it? He knew the voice, but didn't have time to wonder why it was screaming before the spell hit him in the chest, directly over his heart. The last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was the light, and for some reason it didn't seem to be green anymore but red as flames- and as fire often does, it burnt.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the darkness there was colour, although the colours all seemed to be part of the darkness. The spirit, who's name had been forgotten was fascinated, for a time. And then It was bored.

The spirit remembered that there used to be sound, although It could not remember what sound was and so It imagined. It imagined that sound was colours, just like the darkness, but different in that sound- colours danced and dark- colours flowed. It imagined It could feel and could suddenly touch the waves. They felt smooth under It's imagined fingers, like silk, and though It couldn't remember what that was either It knew that it was pleasant.

It's imagined hands and imagined fingers were all _in_ the darkness but not _part_ of it, even though It was covered in cold dark- colours. Green, It's mind suplied. And red, gold, silver, grey, blue, orange, yellow and much more. It still forgott sometimes, that they were colours, and sometimes It forgott that It could feel.

It knew that It had been there forever, in the darkness, but sometimes It forgott that too and then It imagined that It used to be somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't dark. In those moments It thought It remembered, but then It forgott what remembering was.

One Time, after It came but before It left, the colours took it's made-up hands and danced with It for a long time and told It many things.

They told It it was time to go, and that It would have to be strong, even though It told them that It didn't remember what strength was. They told It other things too, like things-that-should-not-be-voiced which they called secrets. They told It that It would be a `he´, bacause It was a he in It's last life and it seemed like It's soul- whatever that was- had become accostumed to being a `he´, and it would make the transaction easier.

They also told It that `he´ would want- need- to do strange things, that may not make any sense, but when It asked what those things were they only said that `he´would know.

They told It that there were angels once, before people went bad and goodness left, and then they said that some angels, the ones who didn't have time to get away, became demons, because they were tainted by people. It asked what "tainted" was, and they made a beautiful ball of white light before letting Darkness swallow and destroy it. It thought the display to be wonderfully beautiful, in a sad sort of way, and said so, but the colours disagreed.

The colours liked to make sounds, to talk, but they didn't like to explain because they said that It would understand in Time, when It became a `he´, and they would just be wasting their time explaining when It couldn't understand. It thought that was stupid but didn't say so, because It didn't want the colours to get _offended- _something It remembered once- and go away.

When colours were done dancing and talking, forever after they began, they told It to search for life. Life, It knew, was something It imagined It remembered once, and so It imagined to remember it again.

It imagined that It remembered forests and rain and sunshine and then It imagined that It knew what sorrow, hatred, laughter and anger was. It imagined that It used to walk and talk and dance and do all those other things that the imagined humans did. Sometimes It imgined to remember killing and horror and others It imagined flying and freedom. And with every new thing that It imagined into existence the colours grew untill there was no darkness left and only different lights to choose between. Sound- colurs whispered from everywhere to be careful and sure in It's decision, because It would only get one chance, and could never do it again.

So It began to search. It flew past millions of balls in different tones and colour combinations, one finer than the next. For some reason that It wasn't sure of It felt drawn to the many-coloured ones. Those, it seemed to It, were the prettier ones because they were complex and difficult to understand and It thought It remembered liking mysteies once. One sphere especially caught It's attention in the sea of life.

The ball stood out because it, in contrast to the others was a combination of both dark and light colours. The rest, from what It had gathered, were either dark or light or grey in tones- dark with just a touch of light or vice versa in special cases. This particular ball though, had somehow managed to become everything at once- both as cheerful as the sun of the day and as secretive as the moon of the night.

It was, admitedly, quite taken and knew it had decided but was worried. The life-colours were beginning to dim rapidly and It cried out in distress because in It's fear It remembered that It used to have a voice. The other colours responded, and told It clearly that the being's life that was tied to that sphere was beginning to die and colours didn't know why, though they should. Colours felt it was unnatural so they told It to choose another life but It had decided and was, apparently, quite stubborn.

When colours didn't relent and the light was beginning to flicker, as if it were a candle about to be blown out, It thrust It's imagined hands forward anyway and imagined giving some of Itself to the ball so that it'd continue to glow. It worked, and the ball shone again, although there seemed to be even more colours there than before, so It continued to ignore the colour-sounds grumblings. It imagined Itself saying `put me into the thing already´, because it felt like something It would have said if It was still a `he´.

Colours were not happy but did as It asked and It could feel Itself becoming the colours of It's new sphere- It's new life.

The last thing It remembered before It became a `he´was the colours disembodied voices as they wispered, "We shall meet again, soul, though you will not remember. You are on your own now- be strong, and be happy."

It thought about flying and felt content.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

AN/ Again, excuse my spelling (I frankly don't have the time to go through it all again right now, though I will try and go back and correct my misstakes later). If anyone knows/has any guidelines (or rules) that would help me with writing dialogue, I'd really apreciate the help. Constructive critizism would be apreciated, and I'd really just like to know your oppinions on this idea 'cauze I'm not sure I could get through this project if no one likes it.

Please review or PM!

/Love, Cathy


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